


The Witch's Curse

by darkroses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Curses, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Self-Hatred, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkroses/pseuds/darkroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean saves his dad from a witch, only to find out a little late that his dad was cursed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean had finished hunt early and decided to go surprise his dad. He knew his father was hunting a witch and he personally hated witches but he decided to put that aside for right now. Dean arrived in town after dusk and found his father’s cabin. He wondered why his dad was renting a cabin instead of a motel room, but figured his dad probably just wanted to stay outside of the witch’s radar.

John wasn’t there so he carefully picked the lock to the cabin. He entered and looked at the notes and map his father had scattered about. Dean saw on the map where John suspected the witch to be and he gathered from his father’s notes that the witch cursed people make the worst nightmare of the first person they see come true. Dean snickered when his dad noted that the cursed person does not know what that worst nightmare is. He frowned when he read that the victim usually ended up tortured and sometimes the immediate family was killed, slowly.

Dean cringed and murmured under his breath, “I hate witches.”

Dean left the cabin and made his way to where his father suspected the witch was. He wandered through the woods with his gun drawn until he found a clearing. He spotted the witch standing about 20 feet away from his father and his father kneeling on the ground looking up at the witch. Dean carefully steadied his gun and fired one shot into the witch hitting her in the heart. He watched as she fell and started too bled out.

Dean made his way out from behind the trees where he was hidden to his father. He looked down at the witch and put one more shot in her head for good measure before turning to his father. He didn’t see any signs of injury on his father. He spoke quickly and his voice was laced with genuine concern, “Are you okay, dad? That witch almost had you.”

John looked up at Dean and snickered, “I’ve never been better, Dean.” John stood and looked up and down Dean’s body. He took a step towards Dean crowding his space.

Dean took a step back and held out his hands. He tried to sound confident, “Um Dad, did you just check me out?”

John licked his lips and took a step back. He smiled, “Maybe I did, and will you follow me back to my cabin?”

Dean swallowed and he looked down at the dead witch. He bent down to pick up his shell casings before looking up at his father. He nodded thinking he was just being paranoid. Surly the witch didn’t curse his father.

++

When Dean made it back to the cabin, his father was waiting outside. That struck Dean as odd, but he decided not to let it get to him. He mumbled to himself, “Don’t be a girl, Dean.” With that he got out of the car and made his way to the cabin.

John grinned when Dean approached and showed Dean inside. Once inside Dean moved to shuffle off his jacket. Once he had one arm out and was reaching to pull the cuff on the other one. He felt a handcuff go onto his free had. Dean struggled, but John had the leverage and the upper hand. John shoved Dean against the wall and cuffed the other wrist to the handcuffs.

 

Dean bucked against the wall trying to get his father off but his was no use. Dean tried to calm himself down when he heard his father still. He looked to see what John was doing only to see a needle in his hand. Dean cursed as the needle was stuck into his arm and he slowly felt his muscles go lax.

John grinned once Dean collapsed on the floor. He kicked Dean once in the chest before squatting down beside him. John grabbed hold of Dean’s face and waited until Dean’s eyes flickered open to look at him. John smiled, “Dean, I gave you a muscle relaxant. I wanted to make sure you couldn’t get away while I had my fun.”

Dean tried to say something and he tried to move but it was of no use. Dean watched through foggy eyes as his father pulled him off the floor and threw him onto the table. John undid the handcuffs to secure Dean to the table. He tied an arm and a leg to each post and had Dean facing up.  John smiled at Dean as he picked up a pair of scissors and started to cut Dean’s clothes off.

Dean felt a growing fear inside of him. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what was happening and more importantly what was going to happen. Dean had never been more thankful in his life that Sam was safely away in California at college. He knew that for this curse to be broken, his father would have to hurt Sam. Dean knew that Sam getting hurt was always his worst nightmare. Dean refocused himself on the present. He knew he had to get Sam out of his mind. The last thing he needed was to tell his dad what his worst nightmare was in the midst of getting tortured.

John ran a hand up Dean’s bare thigh and started humming to himself. He slipped his belt off from his waist and looked down at Dean. He asked a question, knowing full well Dean couldn’t answer right now. He just wanted to scare Dean. The fear made him feel alive and like he was on the right path to accomplishing his goal, “Did you miss my belt, Dean? When was the last time? I think it was when Sam ran away. I missed doing this to you.”

Dean closed his eyes and tried to take himself to a happy place inside his mind. He couldn’t find one before the first lash of the belt landed on his bare feet. He tried to flinch and struggle against the belt but he was unable too. Dean opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling trying to control his breathing as lash after lash hit his feet.

Dean felt blood on his feet first and then once he couldn’t feel his feet anymore. The lashes from the belt moved up to his lower legs. Dean swallowed a deep breath when this started. It was fresh and different than his feet. He wanted to move and run away but he was frozen by the muscle relaxant. It seemed like hours before John finally moved up from Dean’s lower legs. He couldn’t feel his lower legs anymore but the feeling was coming back to his feet. All he could feel is a strong throbbing feeling that left Dean wondering if anything was broke.

Dean could feel that he could move a little now and his vision was clearer. He could see John snickering at him. Dean spoke and his voice was raspy, “Dad please, you don’t have to do this. This isn’t you. It is the curse.” John glared at Dean for a moment before landing a blow of the belt right over Dean’s groin causing Dean to let out a small scream.

John smiled at and rose up the belt and hit Dean again, “So good for me, Dean… Daddy wants to hear you scream.”

Dean closed his eyes and bit down on the side of his cheek. He didn’t want to give his cursed father the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Dean felt the blows to his groin get harder and he felt the sharp sting that came with each blow. Through the pain his mind wandered once again to Sam. This was his happy place inside his mind. The place where Sam was. The place where memory Sam was safe and he didn’t screw up on keeping Sam safe.

Eventually, John moved on from Dean’s groin and started on Dean’s upper legs. Dean opened his eyes and he could see his tears. He wondered when he had started crying, but he didn’t ask. He knew that cursed John was probably getting off on the tears and he didn’t want to encourage the man. Dean stared at the ceiling and he knew this wouldn’t be over until he was dead. He knew it was going to take a long time to beat someone to death with a belt.

Dean’s mind wandered as John hit him. He tried to focus on something else, anything else. But nothing he had ever experienced had hurt as much as his body hurt right now. He wondered if this could get worse, only to have John start to hit his abdomen as soon as he thought that.

Dean could actively struggle against the restraints now, but it did no use for an escape. However, Dean knew that keeping his stomach muscles tight it should minimize the chance of him having internal damage. Although, at this point, Dean wasn’t sure if a little internal damage wouldn’t be a bad thing. He thought to himself how if his organs got damaged that should cause him to die faster.

Dean felt one blow hit his stomach hard causing him to throw up. He didn’t have time to turn his head to the side and he could feel himself chocking on his own vomit. He briefly wondered what Sam would say about him dying on his own vomit. Dean knew he had to fight for Sam’s sake and his father’s sake. He knew that John would never forgive himself if Dean died and he knew it would just be one more thing for Sam to blame John for.

Dean turned his head and coughed as the vomit spilled out of his mouth. He could see his tears and he smell the vomit. He could feel the vomit coating the side of his face as it came out. He could feel as the strokes of the belt did not relent, not even for a moment as Dean vomited. Instead he felt the belt move up to his chest and the abuse started there. Dean felt the breath knocked out of him with each hit across the chest.

He turned his head away from the vomit on the side of the table. Dean could still feel it sticking to his face as he looked off into the living room of the cabin. He was trying to focus on something else, anything else, while he tried to remind himself to breathe through each of the hits.

When Dean felt like his chest was on fire. John stopped and stepped back. Dean closed his eyes and hoped this meant John would be done for a while, but he doubted it. John slowly undid the bindings on Dean’s body. Dean thought about running, but then he remembered that his father was cursed and was unpredictable.

Dean didn’t know what would happen if he escaped. He didn’t know if that meant John would hunt him down or hunt Sam down and kill them. Or if it meant the curse would cause John to find another victim to start this whole process over with. Dean let some more tears escape his eyes when he realized that there were only three outcomes to this. Either he was killed, he killed John to get him to stop, or the curse wore off.

John pushed Dean off the table with one solid pull of the arm. Dean felt himself fall on the floor. The elbow of his left arm hitting the floor first causing Dean to gasp. He looked up at his father and saw contentment on his face. Dean swallowed hard and tried to stand, but he was unable too. He cried out in pain and fell over as he tried to put pressure on his feet.

John smirked and knelt down next to Dean. He grabbed Dean by the hair and spoke coldly, “Did you know each foot has 26 bones and 33 joints? I wonder how many of those I broke to cause you not to be able to stand. It is okay though, Dean, Daddy likes it when you crawl.”

Dean shuttered with the words and the knowledge that if he did get out of this alive. He was probably going to have to explain this to someone in the local ER. Dean closed his eyes and hoped his father would beat him until he passed out. That way at least he could get some rest.

But Dean didn’t pass out, much to his disappointment. Dean wondered if John was purposely keeping him on the edge of passing out. He figured that would be the case and he figured it was the curse. Dean felt as John pushed him onto his stomach and covered his backside in the same treatment with belt John had did on the front of Dean.

Dean had never felt so much pain in his life and by the time John stopped hitting his back. Dean found himself praying to a God he didn’t believe in for death. He wanted this to end and he didn’t know how this could get any worse.

As if on cue things got worse for Dean. John ran a hand between Dean’s ass cheeks and Dean closed his eyes tight. He was hoping his dad was just going to hit him in that area, but he had a sinking feeling it was going to be more than that. Dean listened as the zipper on his father’s pants were undone and he could hear as John pulled out his cock.

Dean tried to move away but his muscles were sore and tight. John was easily able to grab hold of Dean’s hip and hold him still. He felt the tip of John’s dry cock at this hole. Dean felt himself give up his composure and he begged, “Please dad .. Please don’t do this .. Please, I’ve never..” His pleads were cut off by John thrusting once inside of him, all the way in. Dean screamed as he felt it tear inside of him.

 Dean screamed and whimpered as his father moved in and out of him. Eventually, the movement inside of him got easier and Dean knew that was because he own blood was helping. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to block out what was happening. He never wanted this and he was certain that if it wasn’t for Sam. This would be his worst nightmare, but Dean knew the only thing worse than something happening to him was something happening to Sam.

When John finally came, Dean didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. John slowly pulled out and tucked himself in. He stood and looked down at Dean. John kicked Dean hard in the gut and asked coldly, “Did I take the maiden voyage in your ass?”

Dean didn’t answer him. Cursed or not, he was not going to entertain his father with an answer to that question. He knew it would only make his father hate himself more once this was all over. If this was ever over. Dean felt John kick him hard again in his gut and he bellowed, “Answer me, boy!”

Dean looked up at his father unable to bring himself to move. He was looking for anything that would tell him his dad was still in there somewhere. He just wanted to see some trace on his father’s face of love, compassion, anything that would show Dean that his father was still his father. Dean didn’t find anything on his father’s face. He laid his head back down on the floor and he felt another kick in his gut. He relented and answered his father’s question so he would stop. His voice was broken and nearly a whisper, “Yes, you were the first.”

John smiled a Dean and his eyes roamed around Dean’s body. He went over and picked up a sock and shoved it in Dean’s mouth. He pulled out his cell phone and looked at it for a minute. He snickered. Dean was really starting to hate that snicker. John spoke joyfully, “You know, Sam is on summer break from school. What do you say I give him a call and tell him that you are dying? Do you think he would show up or do you think he wouldn’t care?”

Dean’s eyes became wide with panic. He did not want Sam involved in this. He struggled to get the sock out of his mouth as John put a foot down on Dean’s neck, holding him still. John looked down at Dean and said, “I think he will show up and then I can have fun with both of my boys.”

Then John opened his cell phone to call Sam at Stanford.


	2. Chapter 2

It was 4 AM in Palo Alto when Sam’s cell phone rang. He was in bed letting Jessica run kisses up and down his body after a night on the town. Jessica stopped and motioned for Sam not to get up to get his phone. Sam laid his head back down figuring it was one of their friends wanting to make sure they got home okay.

Jessica grinned when she read the caller ID which made Sam blush. He wasn’t sure if she was going to tell whoever was on the other line what they were doing. She opened the phone seductively causing a rush of warm arousal to pulse through Sam’s body.

She put a finger up to Sam’s lips to tell him to be quiet as she put the phone on speaker. Then she spoke into the phone, “Sam’s phone.” Jessica was almost giggling.

Sam heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line. It was his father and he sounded irritated, “I need to talk to Sam. Can you put him on?”

Sam reached up and grabbed the phone from Jessica, giving her his best ‘I will explain later look’ as he took the phone off speaker. He calming sat up and said, “Hi Dad.”

Sam could hear what sounded like struggling in the background and someone’s muffled cries. It immediately made the arousal in his body fade. John spoke frankly to Sam, “Your brother is dying. He doesn’t have much longer.”

Sam felt fear and a pain in his chest. He hated how loyal Dean was to their father and he had no doubt that if Dean would have actually tried to live his own life. He wouldn’t be faced with this now. Sam was a little shaken when he spoke, “Okay, is he there? Can I talk to him?”

Sam heard what he thought was his father kicking something, but he wasn’t sure. He could still hear the muffled cries. John spoke distantly to Sam, “No, he can’t talk right now. I don’t think he will be talking for a while.”

There was something about the way his father said that which caused alarm bells to go off in Sam’s head. He got up from bed and reached for his pants. He nervously asked, “Okay, where are you?”

John replied quickly, “Rushmore, Minnesota. I will text you the address.”

Sam nodded more to himself than anything. He nervously asked, “Okay, I will be driving so please tell Dean to hang on.”

Sam could hear John chuckle on the other end of the line, “I am sure Dean wants to see you before he dies.”

Sam heard the phone click as John hung up the phone. He looked from his phone to Jessica who was perched on the bed staring at Sam. Her eyes were huge with empathy. She tentatively spoke, “Sam, I will look at flights to the area.”

Sam nodded and looked up. Something inside him told him this was a trap. He spoke nervously almost like a scared child, “Thank you, Jessica. But I don’t want you to go with me… I mean I love you and I know you want to be there for me.. But.. But my family is a little weird and with my brother dying. I think it would be too much to try to keep you safe from my father’s stupidity and say good bye to my brother.”

Jessica smiled as she pulled her laptop onto her lap. It wasn’t a happy smile, but one of understanding. “I know Sam. It is okay. I will be here for you when you get back.”

++

Less than one hour later Sam was waiting for the 6 AM flight to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was only about an hour away from Rushmore and Sam had a feeling he would need Bobby’s help. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone once he got to a quiet area of the airport where there weren’t many people.

He dialed Bobby’s number. Sam heard the line pickup after a couple rings, “Sam, you idjit, do you know what time it is?”

Sam sighed, he knew Bobby wasn’t a morning person but Dean trumped Bobby’s hatred of mornings. He nervously spoke, “Bobby, I am taking a flight to Sioux Falls. Have you heard from dad?”

Sam was certain he could hear Bobby shaking his head, “I talked to him a few days ago. I put in on a case in Rushmore. It was a witch. Why?”

Sam let out a slow breath, “What about Dean? Have you heard from Dean?”

Bobby grumbled for a moment, “No, I know he finished up his latest hunt a couple days ago. I haven’t heard from him to know if he got another hunt or not.”

Sam could feel the tension in his body and the stress radiating through his pores, “Okay, I got a call from Dad telling me he was in Rushmore with Dean. He told me that Dean was dying and I need to get there. Dad said I couldn’t talk to Dean.”

Sam paused as he heard a string of idjit ridden curses come from Bobby. Finally Bobby spoke a little more clearly and sternly, “Sam, I need you to stay away from Rushmore and for the love of God stay away from your dad.”

Sam felt his heart pounding in his chest, “Why Bobby?”

Sam listened as Bobby let out a long sigh, “This witch curses people to inflict someone’s worst nightmare on them. It is the first person they see.” Bobby paused catching his breath, “I don’t know for sure Sam. But I think your daddy may have gotten cursed and seen Dean first. You and I both know the two of you have had your differences, but Dean would rather die than see anything happen to you.”

Sam looked out at the airplanes pulling into the bay and said quietly, “Yeah, I know. That would explain why I thought I heard muffled cries when I was talking to Dad. Do you think Dad has done anything to hurt Dean, aside from tie him up?”

Bobby was silent for a moment before he said, “I don’t know, Sam. Just promise me, you will stay away.”

Sam felt worry take over his body and he knew he couldn’t leave Dean to die alone. “I can’t. I am coming. I can’t let Dean die or get hurt.”

Bobby cursed and said, “Damn stubborn Winchesters… Fine, when does your flight land? I will pick you up.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, “11:30 your time.”

Bobby sighed, “Okay, I will do some research into breaking this curse and we can do recon together once you get here. I don’t want to get kidnapped too and leave stranded at the airport.”

Sam nodded and said, “Thank you, Bobby.” Then he hung up the phone. He took a few deep breathes and thought about how he had left all of this behind. He didn’t want to be a hunter. He didn’t want to deal with witches. He wanted an apple pie life as Dean called it, but Sam knew his brother meant more to him than an apple pie life.

++

 Once Bobby picked Sam up from the airport. They started driving straight to Rushmore. Sam didn’t say anything, but he knew Bobby was usually more methodical. He listened as Bobby explained the particulars of the witch and her curse. He listened as Bobby explained in as few words as possible what the witch’s curse causes. Sam listened as Bobby told him that the curse would wear off on its own but they had no way of knowing how long that would take.

They parked a mile away from the cabin John had rented and hiked the rest of the way to the cabin. They hid in a ridge behind the tree line. It gave them a decent view of the house. Sam pulled a pair of binoculars out of his bag on looked into the cabin through the front window. He could see that the curtains were open and his father was standing looking out the window.

He hoped his father hadn’t seen them. Sam watched as John moved out of view and he saw Dean’s battered and naked form on the floor. Sam gasped when he saw Dean. He could see that Dean was awake but he wasn’t moving. His eyes were flickering and his mouth was open. Sam wondered what Dean was thinking or if he could even think at this point and how bad his injuries were.

Sam watched as John stepped back into frame. Sam watched as John unzipped his pants and bent down over Dean’s body. He watched as his father pulled out his cock and pulled Dean up the hip to meet it. Sam saw Dean briefly try to struggle, but he could see on Dean’s face that he knew it was hopeless. Sam pulled the binoculars down and looked over at Bobby.

Sam felt numb and he had a strong desire to throw up. Bobby tried to take the binoculars from Sam but Sam held tight and shook his head no.  Sam felt tears start to sting his eyes as his gaze moved to the trees. He wanted to look anywhere but Bobby and the cabin.

Bobby let go of the binoculars and his voice was full of concern, “What did you see, son?”

Sam felt the tears start to fall down his face as he looked up at the clouds and watched the wind ruffle the tree branches. He took a deep breath and sounded broken when he spoke, “I saw Dean… He.. um.. He doesn’t look so well and umm.. Dad.. I.. Bobby please… I don’t know what to do.. Dad is.. is…”

Bobby put a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder and pulled him in for hug. He tried to reassure Sam. “Sam, it will be okay. Dean will be okay.”

Sam shook his head and pulled away from Bobby. He was adamant, “No.. no it won’t. Dad is.. He is raping Dean.”

Bobby opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out for a few moments. Rape had not been reported in any of the other cases. He didn’t even consider it a possibility that John would be raping Dean. Bobby felt terrible that Sam had to lay witness to that. He felt terrible that Dean was left to endure that and he knew John would hate himself for it once the curse was broken.

Finally Bobby was able to speak, “Okay, you told me that you told your dad you were driving, right? So he wouldn’t expect you here yet. I can go down and knock on the front door. I can tell him you called me and I came to say goodbye to Dean or something like that. You can take up the rear.”

Sam nodded in agreement.

++

Dean heard a knock on the cabin door. He hoped it was the police or someone with a gun to either shoot him or his father to end this. He was leaning towards wanting to be shot with how much pain he was in. He desperately wanted something to drink. His father filled a bowl with his urine and set it down on the floor for Dean to drink. Dean didn’t even entertain the idea of drinking that. He decided that if he was going to die. He could at least die with some shred of dignity left.

Dean watched as his father opened the door and he heard Bobby talking. He closed his eyes and sobbed. He knew he was being weak, but he didn’t care. His voice was too raw from screaming to be able to make words. He couldn’t warn Bobby, just like he couldn’t warn Sam on the phone earlier.

Dean heard the floorboards creak behind him and he turned his head slightly to look. He saw Sam walking carefully into the living room. Sam had his gun drawn. It was pointed down towards his father. Dean tried to move, but he just couldn’t. He knew either his dad was going to hurt Sam or Sam was going to kill him or maybe Bobby was going to kill his dad.

Dean watched as his father looked behind him and saw Sam. He closed his eyes when he saw John rush Sam and he heard Sam’s gun fall to the floor. Dean knew it was over at that point. Nothing more could be done to him. He had failed in every possible way. Dean listened to the struggle and he listened the string of insults his father laid out for Sam. John called Sam every name in the book and it broke Dean’s heart.

He didn’t want Sam to come here. He wanted Sam to be safe, but he had failed once again like he was sure he always did. Dean shuttered when he finally heard a gunshot. He knew without even opening his eyes Sam was dead. He knew because of what his father said. He could hear the anguish in his father’s voice, “Oh my god, what have I done?” Dean let his world fall into darkness. He had nothing left to hold onto anymore.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean woke up in a dimly lit room. His body hurt and he still couldn’t really move. He could hear a steady beeping sound in the background. Dean focused his eyes on the ceiling. It took some time for the ceiling to become clear to him. Then he turned his head to look around room.

He saw a cute blond with wavy hair sitting in a chair on the other side of the room reading a book. Dean thought that the woman was pretty hot but he wondered what she was doing here. He squinted at her and he wondered if he was in Hell. He figured it would be his own personal Hell, if he couldn’t move, hurt like Hell, and the hot chick was just out of reach.

Dean eyed the woman and watched as she looked up from the book after a few moments. She smiled at him and Dean couldn’t find it in himself to smile back. She got up from the chair and walked toward him and Dean felt fear. He closed his eyes and thought about how stupid it was to be afraid of a hot chick. It was just he felt so helpless and he didn’t want to be hurt.

He felt his tears on his cheeks. He didn’t care he was being weak. Dean already knew he had lost everything. He listened as the woman spoke in soothing tone, “Dean, it is okay. I am not going to hurt you. My name is Jessica. I am Sam’s girlfriend.”

Dean felt her reach up a hand and wipe the tears from his face. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the woman. She wasn’t looking at him with disgust or pity like he thought he would see. She just looked concerned. Dean couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing here. The last thing he remembered was his father shooting Sam or at least that was what he thought happened.

Dean tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His throat was raw and he had a mask over his face. He tried to reach up a hand but couldn’t. His left arm was in a cast and his right wrist was restrained. He looked at Jessica and tried to mouth the words to her. He wanted to ask about Sam.

Jessica didn’t get it though. She just ran a hand over his cheek and said softly, “Shh.. it is okay.”

Dean turned his head away from the touch. He didn’t need Sam’s girlfriend’s help. He figured she had enough on her plate already. She didn’t need to add his problems to the list of stuff she had to deal with.

Dean noticed that he could see outside and he could see the sun starting to rise on the horizon. He thought to himself how it must be early morning. He watched the burning sun move into view and he thought about Bobby and his dad having to burn Sam’s body. He wondered if when Sam’s body burned if there was a view of a sunrise. He wondered if Sam would like that. He wondered if Sam was mad that he missed it.

Dean turned his head back up towards the ceiling and stared at it. He was trying to blink back tears as he heard someone else walk into the room. It sounded to Dean like the person was rushing over to him. He wondered why. He didn’t view himself as anyone special or anyone that was worth caring about. Dean felt hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes as soon as this person touched him. He was waiting for the pain to start.

Dean felt something wet hit his face and heard a familiar voice, “Dean, can you hear me? Please Dean.”

Dean kept his eyes firmly closed for a few moments while his mind processed the voice. Finally, it registered for him. The voice was Sam, but Dean thought he was sure Sam was dead. He opened his eyes to look and Sam was crying. Dean stared at him for a moment taking in his features and wondering if this is the real Sam, memory Sam, or Hell Sam. He thought for a moment and decided that it couldn’t be memory Sam, because memory Sam was always happy. It couldn’t be Hell Sam because he was certain that in Hell he wouldn’t get to see Sam. Dean took a deep breath when he realized that this must be the real Sam.

Dean tried to talk again but nothing came out. Unlike Jessica, Sam knew Dean was trying to talk. Sam reached down and undid the restraint on Dean’s right hand. He looked up at Dean and spoke softly, “Sorry, about your hand being tied down. The doctor was worried about you ripping your pic line out when you woke up.” Sam slowly pushed the buttons on the bed so Dean could sit up slightly and handed Dean a pencil and a notepad.

Dean looked at the notepad and at Sam for a couple moments. He shook his head and wrote with an unsteady hand, “Gunshot.. You were dead?”

Sam looked at the paper and gave Dean a pained look. He ran a hand through Dean’s hair before answering. He tried to keep his voice was calm and soothing as possible but he was having trouble, “Bobby shot Dad. It didn’t hit me.”

Dean looked back at the notepad and wrote, “Dad okay?”

Sam ran his fingers through Dean’s hair and rested his head on Dean’s forehead. He pulled himself back up to look Dean in the eye, “The bullet caught him in the shoulder.” Sam paused unsure if he should continue, “He was arrested for what he did to you. There was no way to cover it up. You were hurt too bad. I am sorry, Dean.”

Dean looked off at the sunrise for a couple moments before writing again, “Can’t talk.”

Sam nodded and sighed, “Yeah, I know Dean. You had a lot of damage on your neck. The doctors did a surgery so you can swallow and breathe normally, but they said you may not be able to talk again.”

Dean shook with the knowledge he may never be able to speak again. He knew his hunting would be limited without a voice. He couldn’t interview victims or do an exorcism. Dean wondered briefly if you could do an exorcism in sign language. But then his mind shifted back to why he could barely move.

Dean wrote with his hand trembling, “What else?”

Sam sat down in the chair by Dean’s bed and held on to Dean’s hand. He waited to speak until Dean turned his head to look at him. Sam’s voice was soft and small, “You were in a drug induced coma for about a week. You didn’t wake up right away but you did breathe on your own. The assault happened about 2 and half weeks ago.

“You cracked both of your knee caps and the bones in your feet were shattered. You had surgery to fix that and it is going to take some time to learn to walk again. All of your ribs were broken and your lungs were bruised. You had some bleeding in your abdomen. They had to cut you open to find the bleeding and stop it.”

Sam paused when he saw Dean was crying. He used his other hand to brush Dean’s hair hoping that would sooth him. He asked tentatively, “Do you want me to finish?” Dean nodded his head yes weakly. Sam took a deep breath, “Your left arm is broken at the elbow. They were able to set it back in place but it might take a little longer to heal because of the extent of your injuries. The bruises have mostly faded. You did have to get a few stitches from the cuts scattered throughout your body.

“Dean, I am not sure you want to know the rest right now.” Sam felt Dean squeeze his hand firmly. Dean looked at Sam with a gaze begging him to finish. Sam nodded and continued running a hand through Dean’s hair, “Okay, okay. I can tell you.” Sam let out a slow breath and said, “Dad r..raped you, Dean. It tore you inside. But Dad did something else to you. He.. um.. you had a testicular rupture. You had to have a surgery for that too.. So you know.” Sam motioned in the way of Dean’s crotch.

Dean started to panic because not being able to talk was bad but losing his family jewels was just a bit more than he could handle. Sam put his hands on Dean’s shoulders as Dean started to panic. Dean reached up his right hand and twisted it in Sam’s shirt. Sam spoke softly, “Shh.. it is okay, Dean. You are okay. Everything will work just fine down there once it is healed. I promise.”

Dean caught a couple breathes and he heard the monitors in the room start beeping faster. Then he saw people in scrubs come in the room and push Sam out of the way. He reached out his hand for Sam as Sam was pulled away. Dean struggled against the staff for a moment, before he finally heard his voice break, “Sam.”

Sam stared at Dean for a moment and moved past the staff to the other side of Dean, where they weren’t working. Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and with his other hand he ran it through Dean’s hair.  Dean turned his head to lean into the touch as Sam murmured reassurances to Dean and encouraged him to try not to talk. Sam was relieved Dean could speak and he felt a sense of contentment when the first word Dean tried to say was his name.

++

A few days after Dean woke up. Dean was sitting up on the bed feeling bored. He wanted to leave and hit the road. But he knew he couldn’t drive and Sam wasn’t about to drive him anywhere. Dean knew just by looking at Sam that his injuries scared Sam. He knew Sam was playing mother hen but he didn’t mind. He couldn’t talk and it helped having someone around who understood what he wanted.

Dean wondered if that made his bond with Sam abnormal or if it was just a normal sibling thing. He tapped the side of the bed to get Sam’s attention. Sam looked up at Dean from his laptop. He put it down and walked over to Dean. Sam handed him a cup of water and held his hand nearby as Dean drank.

Sam was pulling the cup away when a man in cheap suit walked into the room. He was thin and small. He looked young to Sam, but Sam considered that his perspective might be skewed since he was tall. The man spoke, “I am Agent Boone with the FBI. I would like to ask you a few questions.”

Sam watched as Bobby walked in behind Agent Boone and said irritably, “Garth, you idjit, I told you I had this witch case assigned out.”

Garth turned to face Bobby and frowned. He said in a hushed whisper, “We shouldn’t discuss this around the witnesses.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and glared at Garth, “They are hunters, you idjit.” Bobby motioned towards the boys, “That is Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Dean reached down and picked up his notepad and wrote down with a steady hand, “The witch is dead. I killed her.”


	4. Five Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's perspective from 5 years later, just to hopefully bring a better closure to this story.

Dean was staring at the ceiling of his room. This is what he did most days until Bobby showed up to drag him to the salvage yard to help out. He thought back to the night that changed his life forever. He wondered how stupid he was to have let himself get into that position in the first place. Dean thought the whole thing was his fault. Everything was always his fault.

He hadn’t spoken to his father since that night. The last words he ever heard his father speak was _“Oh my God, what have I done?”_ Sometimes Dean wondered if those words were meant for what his dad did to him, but he doubted it. He was certain his dad uttered those words when he came close to hurting Sam. He knew his little brother had always been more important. His whole life had always been about protecting Sam. It was never about protecting him.

Dean wondered how Sam managed through all of this and when he asked, Sam would always give him a supportive girly response. He doubted Sam was really doing okay. It just isn’t normal to have to take care of your older brother because of an attack that lasted less than 24 hours. Dean thought about that again, 24 hours and everything changed.

Dean began to run his fingers over the scars that laced his body from that night. It was a ritual. It was a reminder of how he failed. He always started with the one on his neck. The one that took away his voice. Sometimes, if he really focused he could say ‘Sam’ or ‘yes’. Even with all the vocal therapy, Sam paid for, it didn’t help. Dean remembered Sam going with him to learn sign language, which aside from meeting the occasional deaf person he wondered what real purpose it had. No one except Sam understood what he was trying to say.

Dean hated being trapped inside his own mind with his thoughts just itching to get out and having no one to share those with except Sam. He wanted to cry due to happiness when Sam brought home a gadget that he could carry with him and it would talk in a computerized voice for him if he typed in the words. It even had a way to create common phrases and he added, “son of a bitch” to his list of common phrases. The little gadget gave him a sense of freedom he didn’t have before. He could talk to people and he wasn’t trapped anymore.

Then Dean moved his hand down to his chest where he could feel small scars. These were from the belt breaking the skin, as Dean recalled. He could feel his ribs and he remembered what it felt like to breathe the first few weeks after that night. Every breath hurt and every breath was a reminder of his failure.

Dean followed the scars on his chest down to the big one on his abdomen. It ran from the top of his abs all the way to the bottom. He always thought about how Sam wasn’t kidding when he told Dean that they had to cut him open to stop the bleeding. The scar was white and raised, but it was no longer red and threatening like it once was. Sam had offered to pay for Dean to have the scar removed or at least make it less visible, but Dean refused.

For Dean it was a reminder of how he failed and how he deserved every single kick his father laid out on his abdomen. Dean never did ask what caused the internal bleeding. He didn’t care because he deserved it and when he went to the doctor. It was always Sam doing the talking and asking the questions. He was always just sort of there. If it wasn’t for Sam’s genuine concern he would feel like a science project.

Then Dean moved his hand down to his balls. They were warm under his blankets but he never got aroused touching himself there anymore. Sam kept his promise and everything does work just fine. At least on the getting off, but Dean knew he hadn’t been playing the field since that night. Anytime he got close to a chick. He panicked thinking about that night.

Chicks were hard to find anyways. Using a computer to talk or sign language limited the pool on available ladies. Dean noticed that most tended to look at him like he was mentally handicapped but his mind was messed up. Just not that way. Dean knew that he was now classified as having a mental illness thanks to Sam. Even if Sam was adamant about it not being something to be ashamed of. It still hurt. Dean had to live with post-traumatic stress disorder complete with daily panic attacks. Every single day since Dean woke up in that hospital bed he would panic.

He never knew what would set him off. At first it was the sound of someone messing with their belt or seeing a belt. Sam got rid of all the belts they owned after that. Then it was when someone snickered, even a stranger. Sam and Bobby never snickered around him anymore. Dean couldn’t help but notice when they went out somewhere that they tried to keep him facing away from people. The worst though was when he heard the word ‘daddy’. He tried to stay away from children because of that trigger.

Dean then ran his fingers down his legs feeling the scars crisscrossing his legs. They were from the belt, always from the belt. He remembered the pain in his legs as he went through physical therapy after that night. But that was nothing compared to the pain in his feet.

He traced his fingers over the scars that ran alongside his foot. Dean remembered searing pain that shot through his body each time he tried to put pressure on his feet. He remembered trying for months to overcome it and bringing himself to tears just trying to stand. It was 6 months after that night before he was able to stand without curling over in pain. It was only then that he took his first tentative steps.

Dean remembered the nervous look on Sam’s face when he started to walk again. He remembered the sense of pride on Sam’s face when he was able to run again. He knew he wasn’t as fast as he was before and he still walked with a limp. But Sam never said anything about that. Dean wondered sometimes, if Sam noticed those things or if Sam just doesn’t talk about those things to him.

Dean wonders why Sam puts up with him. He has no purpose. He doesn’t hunt anymore and he panics all the time. Dean thinks that must be depressing or irritating for Sam, but Dean has never seen that from Sam. His little brother has always been supportive and loving even through the worst of times.

Dean closed his eyes as he heard shuffling downstairs. He knew it was probably Jessica. She lived with him and Sam now. Dean wondered sometimes how she felt about him living with Sam. Sam was her husband now and Dean was certain it must not be easy. He wondered if they wanted more privacy and when he asked, Sam always said the same thing, _“Dean, you were my family before Jessica. I am not going to send you away because of her and if she makes you uncomfortable let me know. You are more important to me than her and she knows that.”_

Dean didn’t know how he felt about that. He remembered being a teenager and Sam, being the annoying little brother he was at the time, managed to cock block him with his childish ploys more times than he cares to think about. Dean always smiles at those memories of a much simpler time.

Sam and Dean still went on a road trip once a year. It was a reminder of simpler times for Dean. It was never at the same time and always some place they had never been before. The trip depended on Sam’s workload and his current cases. Dean understood that. Sam had the grunt cases right now, but he knew in no time Sam would be a hot shot lawyer. Although, Dean knew that Sam wasn’t really motived to be a hot shot lawyer. Sam wanted to help people and that was Sam’s focus.

Dean was happy that Sam managed to achieve his goals, even though, he was certain that Sam didn’t get that apple pie life he wanted. He knew Sam could never have that, not with him being so broken.  Sometimes Dean wondered what his father thought. Dean knew that Sam had barely spoken to the man since he went to prison.

Dean knew Sam didn’t care for their dad before that night and even though it wasn’t his dad’s fault. Dean couldn’t help but feel Sam blamed their dad for this outcome. He didn’t know for sure because Sam never said. Dean did feel relief when his dad only got sentenced to 5 years with a chance of parole in 3. It was part of plea bargain to prevent him from having to testify.

Dean didn’t want his dad to go to prison at all but under the state’s domestic violence laws, Dean didn’t have the option to drop the charges. Sometimes, Dean wonders if his dad hates him for causing him to go to prison. Dean figures that John does hate him. It is because he wasn’t strong enough and because he failed that his dad is in prison. Dean is certain that if he never went into that cabin or if he was strong enough to take more abuse this wouldn’t have happened.

Dean knows his dad had been out of prison for over a year now. He knows his dad has never texted, called, or emailed him in that time. Dean didn’t know if John had contacted Sam or not, but he doubted it. The only information Dean had about where their dad was or what he was doing was from Bobby. Their dad was hunting again.

Dean figured the reason why his dad never contacted him was because he was useless now. More useless than before. He remembered always striving to be a good solider before and willing to do anything it takes to be that good solider for his dad. Now, he was broken and he doubted he would ever be a good solider. Dean doubted his father even considered him his son anymore.


End file.
